


fragments

by hwangjanim



Series: enneads [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Coming of Age, Dimension Travel, Growing Up, M/M, Platonic Love, Romantic love, it gets sad, jisung is babie, there are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22068772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwangjanim/pseuds/hwangjanim
Summary: You can only say “I love you” when you’re ready to give up.Han Jisung is a living, breathing trigger. Each and every experimental dimension jump his parents had executed from the time he was born had seemed like an adventure, until he truly felt love for the first time.Now, every “I love you” means “Goodbye”, and every dimension he is whisked away to brings new fragments packaged as old memories.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han, Han Jisung | Han & Everyone, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung | Han/Kim Seungmin, Han Jisung | Han/Kim Woojin, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin, Han Jisung | Han/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Series: enneads [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588453
Comments: 9
Kudos: 61





	1. to make a mosaic

**Author's Note:**

> hello loves, and happy new year!  
> I wanted to start off 2020 by posting the first part of a project I have planned for this year. this will be part of a nine part series, with each specific work centring around one stray kids member and having its own storyline.  
> as I have stated before, although I fully support stray kids going on as 8, and will support woojin in anything he chooses to do in the future, my writing has always been meant for nine members, and this project was planned before he left the group, so I really want to complete it as such, so he will be featured in each work as well as having one focused on him. I hope that makes sense.  
> this is kind of an introductory chapter to this work, and I promise it will make more sense as it goes on. I hope you guys will enjoy this project as it goes on, and I hope I don't disappoint! happy reading!

_**GOVERNMENT SCIENTISTS IMPLY DISCOVERY OF DIMENSION TRAVEL** _

“Put that down, Jisungie. That’s not for you.” 

Jisung looks up at his mother, her kind eyes reassuring as she takes the newspaper from his tiny hands and places it onto the kitchen counter, now too high for him to reach. 

“Mama, are they writing about you and papa?” 

“Yes, munchkin, but they don’t know what they’re talking about. They don’t know how it works, so we won’t read their lies because —“

“Because lies are bad,” Jisung finishes off, feeling very proud of himself for remembering the lesson he’d learned a few weeks ago when he shrugged off questions about an empty cookie jar with a mouth full of cookies. 

“Exactly, munchkin. Well done,” she leans down and ruffles his hair, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before grabbing her handbag off the counter and extending a hand for the him to hold. 

“Come on now, or we’ll be late!” 

***

“Is it really a good idea to take a six year old from dimension to dimension so often, Mrs. Han?”

“I’ve been doing it since before he was born. He hasn’t suffered any side effects, if anything, it's enhanced his intelligence immensely!”

“As far as you’re aware.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you can’t possibly know for sure the effect consistent dimension jumping from the time he was _born_ will have on your son…”

Jisung is playing with his blocks. The adults are talking about adult things that he is absolutely _not_ interested in. Making a stable home for his dinosaur figurine? Now _that's_ interesting. 

“Frankly, it sounds like you’re implying I don’t know how to parent my own son and I don’t appreciate that one bit, sir.” 

“These are delicate things, Mrs. Han. I’m just saying you should take care.” 

“Thank you for your input. Jisung?”

Jisung looks up at an outstretched hand and his mother’s overwhelmingly angry face. She doesn’t frown often, so what has the tall man said to make her angry? 

“Where are we going?” he wonders, grabbing his dinosaur toy and scrambling for the lego blocks that were scattered on the floor.

“Mama, my legos!”

“We’ll get you new ones. We have to go now,” her voice makes Jisung overwhelmingly sad, the usual tone of loving playfulness suddenly absent. He turns around, whispering a resigned, _“Bye bye”,_ at the blocks he has to leave behind. The man who’d been talking to his mother meets his eye and attempts an empathetic smile.

Jisung sticks his tongue out at him.

***

“Maybe he’s right?”

“I can’t believe you’d actually side with him! If anyone is close enough to Jisung to notice any detrimental effects, it would be the two of us, don’t you think?” 

“Yes, of course, but —“

Jisung is pushing unwanted vegetables around his plate. Broccoli is bad enough as it is, but the sound of his parents fighting makes it taste even worse. He hears the sound of his name through the kitchen door more than once. 

What has he done to make them so upset? 

“— and we currently don’t have any research whatsoever to confirm that it wouldn’t have an effect, because we’re the ones _doing_ the research!”

Silence. A sigh.

“You’re an incredible mother, you really are. But we have to acknowledge that we are somewhat putting him at risk.”

Silence.

Mama walks through the door, and takes his plate off the table in a huff. Jisung is confused. 

A moment later, she places a bowl of ice cream in front of the boy, and he feels his eyes widen. He's _never_ allowed ice cream unless he finishes his greens, but he isn’t about to complain. Instead, he grabs the spoon and digs in, feeling his mother’s eyes on him. He looks up, ice cream covering his chin, and grins when he notices her usual warm smile make its way back onto her face. 

She walks over to him, ruffles his hair, and the familiarity makes him feel like everything is alright after all. He puts another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. 

“Jisungie, you know mama loves you, right?” 

Jisung nods happily. Mama chuckles, reaching for a tissue and dabbing at the melted ice cream surrounding his mouth. She places a kiss on his forehead. 

“Good. Because I really do love you, munchkin. So very much.”

***

“So, how exactly does it work?"

Jisung is drawing. He is drawing one of his family’s adventures, but it’s harder than it seems. The stickmen just don’t behave as he wants them to. 

“The device used for the dimension jump itself ensures that the version of the traveller located in the destination dimension is replaced with the traveller themselves so as to avoid conflict between different versions of the same individual.” 

Jisung doesn’t have any idea why there is a serious looking man with a clipboard sitting in his favourite armchair and asking his dad so many questions. The man doesn’t realise he is leaning on Monnie, his stuffed squirrel. His dad seems nervous, but Jisung knows papa is smart. He isn’t worried. 

“—to answer your question, no. I don’t see this becoming available to the general public. The amount of conflicts created by thousands of people travelling between dimensions would be too immense for it to be beneficial in any way. Unless there is a national emergency, I predict this will remain used solely within the government…”

Jisung grins happily. He still doesn’t have new Legos, but the drawing is finally coming out as he wants it to. He wants to show papa, but one look up at him and the serious man tells him he should wait until they’re done. 

“Your son travels with you?” 

Jisung looks up at papa. Papa is looking right back at him, trying his best to look natural as he smiled. It ends up looking like pity and regret. 

Papa turns back around and Jisung grabs a yellow colouring pencil and continues colouring in the sun that was progressively beginning to shine onto the stickman version of his family. He’s satisfied. 

“Yes, Jisung travels with us, and if you’re about to ask whether it affects him in a negative way, it doesn’t. There have been no detrimental effects.”

“As of yet, you mean.”

Jisung’s father looks at the boy that made him so immensely proud to call himself his father. He is deeply focused on his drawing, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully avoids colouring over the lines. 

“Yes,” Jisung’s father speaks, “as of yet.” 

***

“What do you mean “trigger words”? What are you implying?” 

“New results and several cases within the past quarter have implied that if a certain word or phrase is said often enough right before the dimension jump is executed, an individual could trigger said dimension jump, albeit slower, without the device we have been using.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” 

Jisung is moving beads along bent wires and pretending like he doesn’t find the toy the tall man placed in front of him extremely boring for the sake of politeness. He fears the tall man still holds the stuck out tongue against him. 

“It would be, of course —“

Jisung looks up.

“—if it weren’t for the fact that the traveller then has no control over which dimension they end up in.” 

***

“I can’t think of anything.”

“Are you _sure_?” 

Jisung is sitting on the sofa and looking up at his parents. They aren’t fighting, but they aren’t _not_ fighting either. It’s very confusing. 

“I’m _thinking_.”

Mama and papa told Jisung to sit and listen and be quiet, so that’s what he’s doing, kicking his feet back and forth as they hang off the edge of the sofa and counting the number of books on the shelves that line the wall behind his parents.

“I can’t think of anything.” 

“Nothing that he says on the regular before you go?”

“Nothing consistent enough for there to be a risk.”

“Am I in trouble?” 

Mama immediately kneels in front of him, places her hands on his knees and stills his kicking legs. Papa places a reassuring hand on the back of his head.

“No, munchkin, of course not! We’re just trying to make sure you’re safe and sound, alright?” 

Mama sounds sure of herself. 

“Okay.” 

“Everything is okay, Jisungie. Don’t you worry.” 

Papa doesn’t sound sure at all. 

“Okay.” 

Mama places a hand on his cheek and smiles and Jisung beams back as he feels papa ruffle his hair. 

“Don’t you worry,” mama repeats.

“Okay,” Jisung is happy now that everything has calmed down. He grins at his parents:

“I love you!” 

Mama’s eyes widen in horror. 


	2. fragment i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)  
> it's always ourselves we find in the sea"
> 
> E.E. Cummings

When Han Jisung was six years old, he had to get used to a world where strangers wore familiar faces and his house was suddenly a polished structure instead of a home. 

When he turned seven, he met a boy they’d convinced him he’d known for years, yet didn’t know at all, inside the bouncy castle at his birthday party. 

When Han Jisung met Lee Felix, the differences didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. 

***

“You _must_ remember Felix, darling.”

Jisung’s mind is completely blank as he stares at the freckled boy, the looming presence of his mother making the situation even more uncomfortable than the kiddie sized tux he’d been shoved into an hour prior. 

It's making his neck itchy. 

“We’ve been away for a while, it’s understandable if he doesn’t remember,” Jisung wants to hug Felix’s mum as she speaks, her eyes kind and understanding. She reminds him of home. Not this place, where the woman who wears his mama’s face insists on being called “mother” and everything looks and sounds and smells wrong.

In a place where everything seems to be a metaphor for something else, she reminds him of _home_. 

“Nonsense. Jisung, stop being impolite and go play.” 

He _had_ played, and been promptly told off for his shirt being untucked when his “mother" called for him, making him unwillingly drag himself out of the giant bouncy castle that had been set up in the backyard. That had probably been the highlight of this universe so far.

That, and the freckled boy he’d been bouncing around with for what seemed like mere minutes, but had, according to the grownups, been nearly an hour and far too long for a “sensible boy” he didn’t feel like being. 

They hadn’t exchanged names; it didn’t seem to matter as much as discussing their favourite Pokémon as they bounced around carelessly, attempting to make each other fall over with aimed jumps as their laughter filled the space. 

And then the imposter that claims to be his mother breaks the illusion and the past four months of a fake reality came crashing back down on his small, gentle shoulders. 

_Why does she have to ruin this?_

“You wanna go back to the castle?” 

Jisung is snapped from his daze by his new _(old?)_ friend gently tapping him on the shoulder, eyes wide and warm and void of any questions or judgement. The name _Felix_ fits him like a glove, the sound of it glowing the same way his smile seems too. His hand is outstretched towards him and Jisung feels himself smiling as he nods happily, their fingers intertwining. 

The world doesn’t seem so cold and impossible when Jisung’s fingertips begin to tingle and daydream about touching the freckles on Felix’s nose. 

***

It has only been a few months when Jisung figures out that the people who wore his parents’ faces in this world wouldn’t be around much. Instead, he finds comfort in “the help”.

“What is “love”?”

Im Nayeon had been working for the Han family for three weeks when Jisung asks her one of life’s unanswerable questions.

“Have you asked your parents about it?” she attempts to divert the question to people who surely had more of a right to answer it than she did. Which freshly hired nanny would want to plant an idea the parents may not like in a seven year old’s head?

“They don’t talk to me.”

Nayeon swallows a lump in her throat, holding back tears at the wide eyed boy who is so young, yet seems to know and feel so much. Too much. Jisung can never tell her, but she reminds him of mama. Her kind eyes make this world a little more bearable. 

“Okay, well,” Nayeon begins, kneeling down in front of him on the kitchen floor, “love is something you feel, in here,” she places a hand over Jisung’s heart, feeling its light beat against her palm. 

“Is it good?”

“It can be. It can make you really happy and make everything taste sweeter and look brighter. Sometimes it makes your heart race and it feels like something is bouncing around in your stomach —“

“Like a bouncy house!”

Nayeon chuckles: “Exactly like a bouncy house! And sometimes it just makes you feel peaceful. Safe.” 

“That sounds nice,” Jisung grins and Nayeon can’t help smiling along with him.

“Does someone make you feel like that, Jisungie?” 

Jisung nods, his cheeks turning a dark shade of red.

“Really? What’s her name?” 

“It’s not a girl! It’s my best friend, Felix!”

Nayeon lets out a small gasp. Her heart almost soars until she remembers where she is. Remembers the kind of people her employers are. It begins to ache again as she pulls Jisung into her chest:

“That’s wonderful, Jisungie. So wonderful.”

***

Jisung often thinks of home. At first home was the place mama would always bring him back to, that smelled of freshly baked cookies and his father’s cologne, but the more Jisung begins to understand the reality of the new world he's found himself in, the more he begins to find home in the few kind people around him. 

Nayeon. Her friend, Jeongyeon, who holds her hand and has a gleam in her eye whenever she glances in Nayeon’s direction, thinking no one notices. Their friend, Jihyo, who dotes on him like he is her son, and not a stranger’s. Youngjae, from the house across the street, who always lets him take his pick from his massive board game collection while he makes fresh lemonade in his spotless kitchen. 

_Felix, whose nose scrunches up whenever he laughs at one of his jokes._

Little by little, the new world he’d been dropped into begins to resemble one he could live in without feeling it weigh him down. He begins to settle into the space of the "Jisung" he’d replaced, begins to feel less like an imposter and more like he could make this world his, too. 

His “parents”, of course, remain cold and distant and constantly wrapped up in work, barely ever around, but he doesn’t care for them anyway. They aren’t really _his_. Enduring Friday family dinners becomes routine, the knowledge that they don’t last long the one thing making them bearable. He has learned by now to excuse himself as soon as the maid collects the cleared dessert plates from the dinner table, taking two steps at a time until he reaches the sanctuary of his room. 

He’s gotten somewhat used to the space, although it really is much bigger than his _actual_ room, and filled with things he never would have gotten his hands on back home. He is not quite sure what to do with them, feeling like he's playing with someone else’s toys without asking first. 

And he is, really. Jisung often thinks about the version of him whose place he took, and how he might have sat in the very same place on the carpeted floor where Jisung is sitting now. How he might have read the same books or drew with the same crayons or built the same fort. 

Actually, the fort thing was next to impossible. Jisung had an _unmatched_ talent for structuring pillow forts. Not even another _him_ could come close. 

Still, he feels his heart tighten whenever he thinks about the boy who’d been him before he came along, who’d eaten the family dinners and suffered through wearing the itchy collared shirts, who may have _enjoyed_ it, because it had been _his_ life. More often than he’d like to admit, he thinks of his own bedroom back home; is it empty? Has he, too, been replaced, just like the Jisung whose shoes he’d filled? Do his parents miss him? He wonders how it must feel to have these distant, aloof people as parents, ones who barely notice that a whole different person is now their son, without knowing deep down that there is a whole other set of parents out there, somewhere, who would do anything for their son and don’t have to schedule an hour a week to pay attention to him. 

Jisung knows he’ll never find out, never get to ask. He’s overheard enough conversations to understand that, and although it makes far more sense than it should to a seven year old, it makes him feel a tinge of sadness. One he has to ignore for the sake of keeping up the appearance of belonging. 

It's a Friday night and Jisung has made his escape, holing up inside the (flawlessly structured) pillow fort he’d built that morning after his “parents’” Pajero left the driveway, eliminating the risk of his mother coming in and making a fuss about the mess in his room.

She calls it a mess, he calls it sanctuary. 

He grabs a torch off his shelf and excitedly sneaks in through the makeshift bedsheet door, more than ready to get back to the umpteenth volume of the old _Batman_ comic books Youngjae had so kindly gifted him when he showed him his perfect report card.

“Go ahead, I won’t be reading them again anytime soon, and you deserve a reward! You’ve done so well,” he’d said, with a kind smile and a gentle ruffle of Jisung’s dark hair. 

The dozens of volumes barely fit into Jisung’s little arms, prompting a laugh from his neighbour. 

“You can come back for more, you know. You don’t have to take them all at once.” 

“I gotta sneak them in while my parents aren’t home, or they might take them away,” Jisung mumbled. He didn’t see Youngjae’s smile falter from behind the pile of comics. 

“Why would they do that?” he asked, taking some of the books off of Jisung’s hands and placing them gently on his counter.

“Because they’re not serious enough. Mother says they’re for silly boys.” Youngjae’s heart flinched at the answer.

Jisung got a cupcake along with his lemonade that day. 

Just as he flips the volume open to the page he’d marked with a post-it Jihyo had happily doodled on and stuck to his wardrobe door on a day he was feeling particularly down, he hears a knock on the door. With a sigh, he places the note back in the book and closes it, peeking out of his fort towards the door. 

It isn’t either of his parents. They never bother to knock. 

“Come in,” he calls out, hearing the door open with a slight creak before seeing a light haired head peek out from behind it. 

“Whoa, cool fort!” Felix’s grin stretches from ear to ear, and Jisung feels a wave of relief wash over him as he returns his smile.

“Thanks! Wanna come inside? I have a bunch of cool comics Youngjae gave me.” 

Felix makes his way over, slipping past the bedsheet and settling in on one of the big cushions Jisung had covered the floor with. Outside a fort-building context, they were completely useless, or so Jisung thought anyway. 

“Who’s Youngjae?” Felix wonders, grabbing one of the volumes Jisung had placed on a downward-facing “read” pile and flipping through it, fascinated. 

“He lives across the street. He’s really cool, he has a lot of board games and makes nice lemonade, and he helps me with my homework sometimes.” 

“He sounds great,” Felix’s grin hasn’t faltered since he’d come in the room, and Jisung feels like he’s just taken a breath of fresh air.

_Don’t stop smiling._

“You should come visit him with me sometime,” Jisung grabs one of his favourite Batman volumes and hands it over to Felix, “This one has a really cool storyline.” 

“Can we go tomorrow?” Felix asks, eyes glued to the radiant drawings in the book Jisung had just handed him. Jisung responds with an enthusiastic nod, and realising it had gone unnoticed, adds a soft “mhm”. 

There's another knock on the door, prompting both the boys’ heads to appear from behind the bedsheet. 

“Come in,” Jisung calls out again, hopping out of the fort and rushing towards Nayeon as soon as she steps through the door. He runs into her, prompting an “oof” to fall from her smiling lips as his head hits her stomach. She stumbles slightly at the force of his hug, but returns it, gently running her fingers through his hair. 

“Hi Jisungie,” she keeps a hand on his head as he shifts to simply hugging her leg, suddenly very aware of the fact that Felix’s face is now half-hidden behind the fort “door”, his shyness completely unfamiliar.

“You wanna introduce me to your friend? Hm?” Nayeon asks. With an enthusiastic nod, Jisung lets go of her leg and hurriedly moves toward Felix, grabbing his hand and pulling him, forcibly but lovingly, towards the newcomer. 

“This is Felix!” 

Felix looks up at Nayeon, letting out a barely audible: “Hi.” 

“Hey Felix,” she’s kneeling down now, finally eye level with the two boys, “I’m Nayeon! I’m Jisungie’s friend, too, and I’m gonna be looking after you boys tonight."

Jisung feels his eyebrows knot into a frown: “But it’s Friday. You’re never here on Fridays.” 

“Your parents have some grown-up stuff to do, so I’ll be here with you for a few days,” Nayeon mumbles in response, her smile perfectly intact, although she feels her eyes well up slightly. She can’t bring herself to tell the innocent-eyed little boy she’s begun to love like a baby brother that his own mother and father had planned an elaborate trip to Greece with Felix’s parents and told him absolutely nothing about it. They expect _her_ to handle it.

“Are your parents going on the trip too?” Felix asks Jisung, speaking for the first time since Nayeon had come in the room.

“What tri—“

“Yes, Felix, Jisung’s parents and your parents are all going on the trip together,” Nayeon interferes before Jisung has the time to ask, trying her best to not to let her lip tremble at the defeated expression on his face. 

“But it’ll be fun, right Jisungie? Felix is staying here with us for the week and I’ll be taking care of you two. And I won’t make you take your fort down,” she gives Jisung a small wink, the smile that begins to spread across his face easing her mind. 

“Can we sleep in it?” Jisung decides to push his luck. Just a little. 

Nayeon raises an eyebrow. Jisung sticks out his bottom lip and widens his eyes. 

“Alright,” she shakes her head. 

Jisung grins. His pouts _always_ work like a charm. 

An hour later, the two boys are bundled up in blankets and footsie pyjamas, the glow of the fairy lights Nayeon had helped string along the ceiling shining through the bedsheets surrounding them. Holding a mug of hot chocolate and playing UNO in the dim light, Jisung feels strangely at peace, although he knows he's far from it. 

“I wish we could do this every night,” Felix mumbles, a bit of whipped cream sticking to his upper lip. He licks it off swiftly, with a click of his tongue and a satisfied smile. 

“Me too. Uno.” 

“Stop _winning_.”

“I haven’t won yet.”

Felix throws down a yellow seven, and Jisung grins, smacking down a green one.

“ _Now_ I won.” 

Felix rolls his eyes, chucking the rest of his cards onto the sleeping bags they're sitting on. He takes another sip of his hot chocolate, watching his friend shuffle the cards. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

Jisung stops shuffling. 

“If you could go anywhere, where would you wanna go?” 

It's a simple question. 

It's the most complicated question in this world. 

Jisung wants to say he’d go home. 

“Jisung?” 

Jisung hears Felix’s voice saying his name and realises he somehow _is_ home. 

***

Jisung and Felix are sitting on Youngjae’s living room floor, playing _Operation_. This time around, Felix is on the winning streak, a slightly smug smile spread across his face. Jisung is losing, but he’s grinning along anyway.

“Your turn,” Jisung accepts the tweezers he’d been offered, sizing up the playing board before deciding on attempting to extract the piece of butterfly shaped plastic placed in the stomach of the man shaped playing board. Something about it speaks to him. He narrows his eyes, slowly approaching the board and preparing to make his move. 

“You wanna know something?” 

Jisung looks up: “Don’t try to distract me, you’re already winning anyway.” He slips the tweezers into the opening, managing to get a hold of the butterfly on first try. 

“I think,” Felix says matter-of-factly, ignoring the concentration on Jisung’s face, “that you are my favourite person in the world.” 

The buzzer on the game sounds, making Jisung flinch. The plastic man’s nose glows a bright red as he looks at his friend, the tweezers abandoned on the playing board. 

“I’m sorry, you can go again!” 

It takes Jisung a second to realise what Felix is talking about.

“Oh. No, that’s okay. And… you’re my favourite person too. I feel alone a lot, but never when you’re around.” 

Felix is grinning again. Jisung understands why the butterfly in _Operation_ man’s stomach seemed so familiar. 

“I wish I could stay with you all the time. That would be so cool,” the game is long forgotten as both the boys allow wishful thinking to take its place instead.

“When we grow up,” Jisung speaks, lying down on the carpeted floor and folding his arms over his chest, “we can get a house together, with a slide and a trampoline —“

“And a pool! And comic books!” 

“And 20 dogs!” 

“Boys!” Nayeon’s voice interrupts the innocent musings that are practically bouncing off the walls as the two boys get more and more excited about their daydreams. They both turn towards the living room door, finding their babysitter standing by it with her friends. 

With _their_ friends. 

“We should get going. It’s already dark out, and we need to get you ready for bed before we start our movie night.” 

“Movie night? That sounds fun! You guys better go get ready,” Youngjae adds, his signature smile present in his voice as much as it is on his face. 

“Do you wanna come?” at first glance, no one would have thought that the boy who was now boldly asking the kind man to come along to movie night had entered the house with a barely audible _“hello”_ only a few hours prior. Felix had gotten comfortable in a matter of minutes, and it makes Jisung happy in a way he doesn’t fully understand and can’t quite explain. 

It feels like a new world has just been made. For _him_. 

Youngjae kneels down, face to face with the two boys: “I can’t tonight, but you guys can come back here tomorrow. How does that sound?” 

The enthusiastic nods he receives in response make him beam back at the kids before standing back up and turning to say goodbye to the three girls standing by his front door. Jihyo and Jeongyeon are holding a tiny jacket each, and Youngjae can’t help but laugh at the disgusted expressions on the boys’ faces. 

“Why do we have to wear _jackets_ , the house is just across the street!” Jisung whines, prompting Jihyo to shake her head as she motions for him to slip his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. His eyes meet Felix’s as the boy grimaces while Jeongyeon straightens out his coat, and they both chuckle to themselves, the soft sound going unnoticed by the grownups. 

“As long as _I’m_ taking care of you two, you’ll wear jackets every time you leave the indoors. It’s the middle of February and you’re not going to catch pneumonia on my watch!” Nayeon establishes, before opening the door and giving Youngjae a quick hug as everyone waves goodbye and the boys are ushered out along with her friends.

Before they know it, the boys are covered in blankets, coddling a bowl of popcorn between their legs as _Spirited Away_ begins to play on the flat-screen TV in the living room. The curtains are drawn, and Nayeon set up a starlight lamp dug out of one of the many hidden corners of the house, little fragments of light scattering across the ceiling. It’s warm and comfortable and calm, and Jisung allows himself to feel like he isn’t in the wrong place anymore. 

An hour into the movie, Nayeon, Jeongyeon and Jihyo have all drifted off, leaning on each other under a pile of duvets dragged out of one of the guest rooms. Jisung giggles at how small they look, almost smaller than him and Felix, and they’re only seven. It feels odd to think that they were once seven, too. 

“Look,” Felix is pointing to the ceiling, and Jisung’s eyes follow, “those lights look like the Big Dipper. My dad taught me that.” 

“We should name the indoor stars something different. You know, cause these are _our_ stars. The ones outside are for everyone.” 

Jisung could swear that Felix’s smile made the night coated room a little less dark. 

“I like that one,” Felix points out a cluster of lights that looks a bit like a spiral settled by the right corner of the room, “I’m naming it Jisung.” 

Jisung feels his heart speed up, just a little. 

He points to a group of lights by the TV, almost oblivious to the characters on it by now: “I’m naming that one Felix’s Freckles.” 

Felix chuckles. 

Jisung soars. 

Felix intertwines his fingers with Jisung’s. Jisung holds his breath for longer than he ever imagined he could. 

They drift to sleep buried in blankets, holding hands and naming constellations that belong to no one else.

_Jisung and Felix are sitting on Youngjae’s living room floor, playing Operation. Jisung is losing, but he’s laughing along with his best friend anyway._

_“Your turn,” Jisung sizes up the playing board before narrowing his eyes, slowly approaching it with the tweezers he’d been offered, ._

_“You wanna know something?”_

_Jisung looks up: “Don’t try to distract me, you’re already winning anyway.”_

_“I think,” Felix says matter-of-factly, ignoring the concentration on Jisung’s face, “that you are my favourite person in the world.”_

_The buzzer on the game sounds, making Jisung flinch. The plastic man’s nose glows a bright red as he looks at his friend, the tweezers abandoned on the playing board._

_“I’m sorry, you can go again!”_

_It takes Jisung a second to realise what Felix is talking about._

_“Oh. No, that’s okay. And… you’re my favourite person too. I feel alone a lot, but never when you’re around. I love you a lot, you know.”_

_Everything is a blur._

_The room is spinning. Sounds are fading in and out. The lights start to flicker. Felix is out of focus. Is that Nayeon’s voice?_

_Felix is fading away. Felix is fading away._

_Felix. Is fading. Away._

Jisung wakes up in a cold sweat. 

Felix’s head is still leaning on his shoulder. Their fingers are still intertwined. If he holds his breath for a moment, Jisung can hear his heartbeat. 

Felix hasn’t faded away. 

***

When Jisung turns eight, there’s no bouncy castle or itchy shirt collars. His parents are out of town and he’s too numb to it to be disappointed. 

On September 14th, he wakes up to the smell of hot cocoa and pancakes drifting into his room, right after being aggressively poked awake by his best friend.

“Jisung wake up, it’s your _birthday_!” 

Felix seems more excited than he is, warming up the autumn morning with his smile. He holds out a small wrapped packet for Jisung to take. Jisung unwraps it carefully, ignoring how fast Felix’s knee shakes with excitement, and feeling a warmth spread across his chest as he catches a glimpse of the gift inside. 

A packet of _Batman_ UNO cards looks up at him and he grins, feeling his cheeks ache. A card slips out from behind the pack, his own face and Felix’s clumsily, yet beautifully, drawn on its front. He feels his heart speed up a little, opening the card.

_“To my favouritest person in the whole wide world,_

_Happy Birthday! I love you the mostest and I hope we can have the best day ever today!_

_Lots and lots and lots of love, Felix_

_P.S. Some day soon we can celebrate in our house with the slide and the trampoline.”_

Jisung looks at his best friend. Really _looks_ at him. 

His eyes, crinkled in a warm smile. Jisung’s favourite smile. His cheeks, rounded by the grin, covered in freckles that looked so much like happiness Jisung could never quite explain it. His nose, small and perfectly shaped, so used to scrunching up with laughter with every joke Jisung made. 

Felix looks like he can bring the sun to its knees. 

“Thank you,” it ends up no more than a whisper, but Felix nods enthusiastically anyway. Jisung has never needed to explain himself to his best friend. 

“Do you like the card?” 

Jisung nods, smiling despite feeling his heart beating in the back of his throat. He stands up, walks over to his bedside table and props the card up on it. It’s the only thing on the small piece of furniture, and that makes him indescribably happy. 

“Now it’ll always be close when I sleep, even when my mum makes me sleep on the bed again.”

Jisung could swear there’s a glint in Felix’s eye when he says that.

“Happy birthday to you,” the familiar song booms through the wide hallways, and Felix rushes to the door just in time to open it for Nayeon, who has her hands full carrying a tray of pancakes coated in chocolate and topped with strawberries, and a mug of steaming hot cocoa. She finishes singing the song, only to have a slight frown appear on her face. 

“Not that I mind you waking up on your own, but please get back in your sleeping bag so you can have a birthday breakfast in bed. Okay, bed _ish_.”

Jisung laughs. Nayeon smiles. 

He crawls back into his sleeping bag through the sheets him and Felix had formed into the familiarity of a fort the night before. Accepting the tray onto his lap, he takes a sip of cocoa. It tastes like home. 

“Finish up eating and get ready, we have a very exciting day planned for our birthday boy, don’t we Felix?” 

Felix looks at Jisung, his expression both knowing and almost guilty, like he feels at fault for knowing something his favourite person doesn’t. He nods. 

The boys share the breakfast, Jisung attempting to guess his birthday plans and Felix absolutely _refusing_ to tell him anything. 

“It’s supposed to be a _surprise_ ,” he emphasises for the nth time as he pulls a blue sweater over his t-shirt.

“Fine,” Jisung pouts, zipping up his hoodie before grabbing Felix by the hand and running out of the room and down the spiralling staircase. 

“Ready?” Nayeon asked as both the boys skip the last 3 steps with a perfectly timed leap, high-fiving as they land. 

Felix nods at her, enthusiastically. Jisung is still sulking over being kept in the dark. 

Their fingers intertwine as they make their way out to the car.

Jisung isn’t sulking anymore.

***

“Can I tell you something?” 

Jisung and Felix are sitting on the floor of the living room, the stuffed toys, souvenirs and candy they’d collected through the day scattered around them. The fair games, the amusement park, the zoo and the candy store had left both the boys with immense amounts of mementos that were now getting sorted into neat piles on the sheepskin rug. 

“Of course. You can tell me anything."

“Don’t get mad at me.” 

“I won’t,” Jisung replies confidently. He couldn’t imagine getting mad at Felix for any reason, ever. 

“I keep feeling like you'll leave.”

Felix is avoiding meeting his eyes, and Jisung is glad because it means he can’t see them tearing up. 

“I won’t leave. I like being here. Being with you.” 

Felix nods.

A few minutes later, the boys are climbing up the stairs with hands full of the day’s souvenirs. They’re oddly quiet, Felix’s confession looming over them both as they change and get into their sleeping bags. Jisung moves his towards his friend’s until there’s no space left between them. 

They lay down, the closeness making their silence a little less unsettling.

Their eyes meet. Felix moves even closer, hesitantly placing his hand on Jisung’s chest. 

“Can I sleep like that? If I feel your heartbeat, it’s not so scary.” 

Jisung nods, only illuminated by the moonlight creeping through the window. He watched Felix’s eyebrows unknit and the corner of his lips curve slightly upwards as his eyelids flutter closed. 

He drifts to sleep with Felix’s hand resting on his heart, his thoughts travelling across time and space to the last time someone’s fingertips could feel his heartbeat as he dreamt. 

*

Mama’s eyes widen in horror. 

Jisung frowns: “What’s wrong?” 

Mama says nothing. She just stares at him. He doesn’t recognise the look in her eye, but it scares him. 

“Mama!” 

“No,” Papa speaks first, panic clinging to the word. Jisung is confused. 

“We always,” Mama tries to speak, but it’s like she can’t. It’s like someone is stealing the words from her mouth before Jisung can hear them. 

“We always,” she repeats, “We always say that before. Before we — Before we go, we _always_ do.” 

Mama’s hands are on his cheeks. They’re cold to the touch, but he doesn’t mind; he’s just glad she’s no longer frozen in place in front of him. 

“Maybe it only works after a certain amount of trips,” Papa is speaking in his brainstorming voice. He used the same one when he helped Jisung decide what to do for his school project, but it sounds somehow unfamiliar. Jisung doesn’t like it. 

He doesn’t like any of this. 

“Maybe it won’t work on him, he’s only a kid.” 

“Call them.” 

“They won’t be able to do anything now —“

“Call. Them.” 

A few minutes later, Papa is on the phone. He is talking to someone about Jisung, and Jisung doesn’t appreciate being talked about one bit. He pouts, and kicks his legs in the air while sitting on the couch next to Mama. She has her arm around him, holding on a bit too tight, but he lets her because she seems upset. He doesn’t want her to be upset.

Jisung yawns and forgets to cover his mouth. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” Mama says, almost hurriedly. Jisung isn’t that tired, but he goes anyway. He figures it’s the best thing he can do to make Mama less upset, since he can’t do much else. Feeling powerless isn’t nice. 

Soon enough, Jisung is tucked into bed, Monnie on one side and Mama on the other. Papa is still on the phone downstairs. He sounds angry, his voice rising all the way to Jisung’s room. He sounds angry and something else.

Angry and _desperate_. 

Mama looks tired, more tired than he is. She rests her head on one of the pillows and tries hard to keep her eyes open. 

“It’s okay Mama,” he whispers, “Go to sleep.” 

She pulls him closer, placing a kiss on his cheek. She whispers,“I love you, Jisungie. Stay with me, okay?” 

Jisung doesn’t know what that means. Why would he want to leave, anyway? 

Mama falls asleep with her hand on his heart. 

She isn’t there when he wakes up. 

*

Felix is, though. His mouth is slightly open, and he’s snoring lightly as the rising sun peppers its rays over his freckled cheeks. Jisung feels Felix's breath on the skin of his collarbone and the tips of his fingers are still on his chest. He holds his breath for a moment, listening for Felix’s heartbeat, and smiles to himself when he feels it against his arm. 

Jisung thinks about the likelihood of being able to stay like this forever. Felix’s eyes flutter open, as if summoned to wake by Jisung’s thoughts, It feels magical. 

“Happy birthday, Felix.” 

Felix grins sleepily, “Why are you whispering?” 

“Because I can tell your brain is still asleep, I don’t wanna wake it too suddenly.” 

Felix giggles. Jisung is scared his heart racing is loud enough for him to hear.

“Are you gonna say it louder when my brain’s awake?” 

“I’ll go on the roof and yell it when your brain’s awake.” 

“Okay. As long as I get a loud happy birthday too,” Felix mumbles, closing his eyes again and wrapping an arm around Jisung’s waist before drifting back to sleep. 

Jisung doesn’t fall back asleep, though. He watches the sun rise and slowly paint the sky light blue. He thinks about how lovely it is that the weather will be so nice for Felix’s birthday. He looks at Felix’s eyelids and wishes they’d stop being in the way of the dark amber of his eyes. He thanks the sun rays for landing on Felix’s face the way they did, painting him a soft gold.

Jisung doesn’t think of himself as someone who knows much, although he knows more than most people. What he does know, however, is that Felix doesn’t need sun rays to glow.

Felix is Jisung’s golden boy. 

***

“Did you have a nice time, Felix?” 

Jisung loves Felix’s mama. He really does. She’s lovely and kind and she always smiles. 

So why does he _hate_ it when she shows up at the door?

_Because it usually means Felix has to leave._

“Yeah,” Felix doesn’t _sound_ like he’s had a nice time, but Jisung knows it’s because he wants to stay as much as he wants him too. He tells him that through the unnoticed look they exchange.

“I’m so sorry we missed your birthday, honey. We can celebrate together this weekend, would you like that?” 

“No, that’s okay. We celebrated,” Felix smiles at Jisung, before opening his eyes wide, sticking out his bottom lip and looking up at his mama, “Can I stay longer? _Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaase?_ ”

“Felix, you have school tomorrow.” 

“I can drop him off when I take Jisung,” Nayeon added, placing a hand on Jisung’s shoulder. He looks up at her and smiles. She knows the smile means “thank you”. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to trouble you, I know you’re alone with Jisung for another two weeks.” 

“It’s no trouble at all, he’s an angel, and the boys always have such a nice time together. He’s welcome to stay as long as he likes!” 

Jisung closes his eyes and thanks the universe for Nayeon twenty times in a row. He counts, and then opens his eyes and looks at Felix’s mama as she considers the offer.

“Alright then. I’ll pick you up for dance practice tomorrow, though, and then we’re going home. Okay?”

Within a split second, Felix is standing next to Jisung, clinging onto his forearm: “Okay!” 

“And you know that means you don’t get the presents your dad and I got you until tomorrow, right?” 

“That’s okay!” 

Felix’s mama seems confused as she kneels down to kiss him goodbye and ruffles Jisung’s hair before heading out towards her car. She types something into her phone and presses it to her ear. Before Nayeon closes the door behind her, Jisung overhears her conversation. 

“He’ll stay another day. No, I think it’s fine, I mean Jisung makes him so happy. It’s so heartwarming.” 

Jisung takes his arm out of Felix’s grip and wraps it around his shoulders. 

***

“Can we stay up until midnight?”

Jisung’s mother ponders for a moment, before looking over at Felix’s parents. She looks at them the way Jisung has seen kids in his class look at their cheat sheets during class tests. 

“Is Felix alright to stay up so long?” 

They look at each other before Felix’s dad responds. 

“I mean, usually 9:30 is bed time, but it’s New Year’s Eve! Staying up until midnight is like a rite of passage, isn’t it? We can all watch the fireworks!” 

Jisung decides he likes Felix’s dad as much as he likes his mama. 

Mother turns back to him and gives a curt nod: “You can stay up until midnight, but afterwards, you’re off to bed!” 

“Okay.” 

“Go play now.” 

Jisung nods before taking Felix’s hand and making his way up the stairs. He’s trying to ignore the constant reminder that his mother is practically allergic to spending time with him, the phrase, “go play”, serving as an antihistamine. He tries to remain unbothered about the fact that she has to ask other kids’ parents what to allow because she cares so incredibly little about what he does or wants to do. 

He’s trying to hold back tears when Felix squeezes his hand as they enter the familiar escape of his bedroom. 

“Are you okay?” Felix closes the door with a click, his fingers still intertwined with Jisung’s. They settle down onto the carpet. 

Jisung doesn’t want to lie to his favourite person. He wants to talk and explain and get everything off his chest. He wants to bury his face in Felix’s chest and not leave the room until he can breathe again, not even for the non-alcoholic champagne their parents had bought especially for them.

Instead, he begins to cry. 

It’s just quiet tears at first, but soon his body begins to shake and soft gasps turn into loud sobs, and he can’t hold anything back anymore. He doesn’t _want_ to hold anything back anymore. 

Felix doesn’t ask, he simply knows the answer. Somehow. 

He wraps his arms around Jisung and lets him cry into the crook of his neck. He smells like cinnamon and safety and not wanting to let go. 

“It’s gonna be okay. It’ll be fine,” Felix murmurs into his ear, and even though his chest aches, Jisung believes him. 

He breathes in. He breathes out. He opens his eyes. 

Felix is looking right at him. Kind, unquestioning. 

Safe.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung manages, almost choking on his words. 

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong,” Felix reaches over and moves a strand of hair from Jisung’s eyes, “You don’t need to apologise.” 

“But I shouldn’t cry.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Mother says that’s not proper.” 

Felix frowns: “She’s wrong. If you’re sad, you should cry. It makes you feel better afterwards.” 

Jisung sniffles: “You think?” 

“I know.”

Jisung nods, and before he knows it, Felix’s hand is cupping his cheek and he is pressing his lips to Jisung’s quickly, softly, sweetly. He moves away and smiles, his eyes crinkling in the way Jisung has fallen so in love with. 

And Jisung can breathe again. 

***

“If you’re scared, you can hold my hand!” 

Jisung takes Felix up on the offer, taking his hand and squeezing harder than he means too. He’s never been on a rollercoaster but he’s spent the past hour listening to people screaming while him and Felix queued for the ride, and that can’t be good, right?

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” Felix gives him a reassuring smile and Jisung loosens his grip. Just a tad. 

A tall man comes along, fumbling around with the safety harnesses. He looks familiar.

_“...so what has the tall man said to make her angry?”_

Jisung squeezes Felix’s hand as the rollercoaster makes its way up the tracks. He breathes in, _it makes sense for the tall man to be here_ , looks at a grinning Felix, _and he doesn’t know who you are, this is a different world_ , and holds his breath as they speed downwards. He feels like he’s weightless, the confusion and worry from a mere moment ago launched into space, far far away from him. 

Five minutes later, Jisung is standing on solid ground, trying his hardest to recall what being on the rollercoaster was like. All he can remember is freedom and adrenaline and Felix. 

_Always Felix._

“Wasn’t it fun?” 

_Felix and his grin, Felix and his voice, Felix and his everything._

Jisung takes a moment before giving an enthusiastic nod.

“Can we go again?” 

Felix laughs. 

_God, his laugh._

“Let’s go on a different one this time!” Felix takes his hand and Jisung feels like his fingertips are intertwined with the universe. He follows Felix in a daze, convinced that the sun shines brighter every time he turns around and grins.

Three rollercoaster rides later, each one leaving Jisung more elated and enamoured, the two boys are burying their smiling faces in giant tufts of cotton candy. Felix’s is blue, Jisung’s is pink. He wonders whether they taste different. 

“You wanna try mine? Maybe they taste different,” Felix tears off a piece of the candy and hands it to him. 

It tastes the same, but Jisung offers him a piece of the pink anyway, revelling in the grin he gets in return. 

“There you boys are,” Jisung feels a gentle hand on his head and looks up to find Jihyo’s grinning face looking at him upside down. He beams back, and she ruffles his hair.

“We’re gonna get going in a bit, so if you want to go on one last ride, now’s the time.” 

The boys both nod happily, mouths full of melting sugar. Looking around for a moment, Felix points to a coaster nearby.

“Look, no queue! Let’s go on that one!” he takes Jisung by the hand, his fingers sticky sweet but Jisung doesn’t mind. 

He hopes Felix’s hand stays in his forever, anyway.

***

Jisung’s feet hang off the pier, grazing the surface of the sea as he happily chews on a cherry from the plastic bag next to him. Felix sits next to him, kicking ripples into the water. His hand rests on Jisung’s as they watch the sky turn violet.

“If I jumped in right now,” Jisung wonders, "Do you think I’d be able to stand up in the water?” 

“I don’t know,” Felix shrugs, a twinkle in his eye, “Should we do it?”

Jisung looks around, keeping an eye out for the inevitable disapproval that would grace the faces of his parents if they were to notice the boys getting into the ocean when it’s already getting dark. He grins when they are nowhere to be found and grabs Felix by the hand, sliding off the pier and into the water with him. 

The salt sticks to his skin and his hair as Jisung realises that the sea isn’t shallow enough for either of them to stand up. He feels the ripples from Felix’s kicking legs and giggles, never letting go of his hand. It’s odd, like saltwater is weaving its way through their veins and he _feels_ it, not only his, but Felix’s too. 

Jisung’s feet are floating, but he has never felt so grounded. He tastes salt on his lips, wonders whether he’d taste them on Felix’s too, admires the way the sunset settles on his smiling face, suddenly feels very aware of the way their fingers are intertwined under the water. 

His heart races and he doesn’t quite understand why the salt stings and heals at the same time, questions whether Felix feels the way his heart is racing, whether the thumping he feels in his chest is making the water flutter. 

“Felix?” 

Jisung hears himself say his name, feels it slip off his lips like a full stop. 

“Yeah?” 

His smile, _his smile_ makes everything make sense as Jisung lets out the words he’d held trapped under his tongue, lets them fuse with the salt and watches Felix’s lips stretch into a smile that makes the sun look dull. 

_“_ _I love you._ _”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave any thoughts in the comments! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and please look forward to the next one! Much love, stay hydrated xo


	3. fragment ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.”
> 
> George R.R. Martin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends, I hope you're all staying safe and healthy and taking care of yourselves in this strange and scary time! xo

When Han Jisung was nine years old, he told a big-hearted, freckle nosed boy that he loved him, savouring the smile that had spread across his face at the sound of the words. The moment tasted like cherries and truth. 

The next morning, he woke up in a different bed, in a different room, in a different world. He cried into a pillow that smelled new and unfamiliar and like a place he didn’t want to be, barely noticing the nine other beds in the room. 

His tears kept falling until the sun rose. 

***

“Breakfast in fifteen minutes!” 

A booming, unfamiliar voice startles Jisung awake. His eyes are dry and sore, and the back of his head feels like it has a pulse of its own.

He looks around, disoriented and confused at the shuffle of people moving through the room. Eight other boys rush around the space, pulling on sweatshirts and faded black jeans. Everything is happening in a flurry of motion and voices, the sound of sheets being pulled over beds interrupting the hurried conversations. 

“Jisung? Are you okay?” 

A tall, concerned looking boy stands above his bed. He has kind eyes, and although he’s frowning, Jisung somehow knows he isn’t angry. Just worried. 

“Jisung?” 

“Huh? Yeah I’m okay. Sorry.”

Jisung wonders who the boy is, whether they’re friends, whether he’s as kind as his eyes promise him to be. 

“You’d better get ready, you don’t wanna miss breakfast!” 

_Miss breakfast?_

“Are you sure you’re okay? If you’re not feeling well, I can sneak you some toast.”

Jisung’s eyes dart around trying to place himself in this new world. He notices a pile of clothes on a chair next to his bed and grabs them, pulling on a pair of trousers that feels too stiff and a sweater that is too cold and makes him shiver slightly. This new world makes no sense. 

And there is no Felix to guide him. 

Jisung notices the ache in his heart for the first time since he’s woken up. His chest feels like it’s been broken and all the happiness snuck out through the cracks. 

_He left it in the ocean._

Jisung gets up, feels the friendly boy’s arm wrap around his shoulders, nods when repeatedly asked if he’s alright. He walks down a flight of stairs, two flights, three, goes through a double door, finds himself in a massive room so cold his teeth begin to chatter, follows his friend, because that seems to be what this boy is, to one of the worn wooden tables. 

Everything is happening in a fog.

All Jisung knows is that food is lined down the centre of the table, that there is one empty seat, and that a nice looking older lady is looking right at him as she walks towards his seat, her hand resting on the back of a tall, skinny boy. 

“Hello boys,” the lady speaks before she really reaches them, her voice booming through the space. The boy with her looks as confused as Jisung feels, and he finds some relief in that. Their eyes meet as she continues to speak and Jisung’s brain doesn’t quite process everything she says, until it’s his name leaving her stern lips. 

“Jisung, Soobin I trust you’ll take good care of him,” Jisung notices his friend giving a confident nod and makes a mental note of his name. 

“Have a seat,” she’s talking to the new boy now, his eyes widen as he sits across from Jisung, “and have some breakfast. The boys will give you a tour of the home later, and the village too, and you have another day to settle in before you start at the school.” 

The boy nods. Jisung looks a bit closer. 

In a way, this newcomer is just like him; they are both lost, and neither of them seems to know what it’s like to be found. Jisung sympathises with the dark-haired boy, sees a bit of himself in the corner of his eye, ignores the gloom that has settled around the idea of ever letting himself get attached again, and asks for his name again.

“Jeongin. It’s Yang Jeongin.”

It’s said with a smile.

The fog around him clears.

***

It doesn’t take Jisung a long time to understand that he’s in an orphanage. Or a “home”, as the adults insist on calling it. It doesn’t feel much like one, but it grows on him as the days pass by.

He misses Felix, he always does, but he knows there’s not much to be done about that now. No matter how many tears soak into his pillow when it's time for lights out, no matter how often he clutches at the rough fabric of his duvet in an attempt to numb the pain in his chest, Felix isn’t here. He can’t be. 

Jisung knows that, no matter how hard he looks and how many times he moves from world to world, he will never find Felix again. Not the right Felix, anyway. 

And it’s awful. It leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue, makes his tummy squeeze up for no reason in the middle of the day, overtakes his mind when he’s supposed to be solving maths problems, makes his eyes well up when he’s surrounded by people he doesn’t want seeing him cry.

If it weren’t for his friends, Jisung doesn’t know what could possibly numb the empty ache that fills him every waking moment. He prefers the home to the cold, emotionless cage his previous house had been. 

Although he’s pretty sure the other boys would call him crazy if they knew he thought so. Well, they’d call him crazy if they knew anything about him, really. 

Jisung is buttering a piece of toast at breakfast. It’s the weekend, so there’s no usual rushed stuffing of mouths in preparation to run to class. Instead, everyone at their table seems relaxed, joking and laughing despite the fact that it’s only eight in the morning. Everyone here is an early riser; they have to be, but no one seems to mind. 

Jeongin sits to Jisung’s left, and Soobin is to his right, pouring milk into his cereal. It’s fascinating to see everyone so… at _peace_. Jisung thinks about how the boys around him, who have had to find family with each other, are probably the only people who can come close to understanding how he’s been feeling since he’s been away from his parents. It gives him a strange kind of comfort. 

“Earth to Jisung!”

He’s snapped out of his daze by a violent waving of Soobin’s hand barely an inch away from his face. It makes him flinch slightly, before bursting into laughter. 

“Sorry, I zoned out.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Jeongin’s elbow nudges him lightly in the side as he laughs along, and Jisung shakes his head lightly. 

“I was saying,” Soobin continues, “We’re allowed to go into town tomorrow, so we could go see a movie.” 

“What movie?” 

“Well, I don’t know. Whatever’s on?”

“No wonder Jisung’s zoning out,” Jeongin mumbles, chuckling at the eye-roll Soobin responds with. 

“I just want us to have a nice time, and this is the thanks I get.” 

Now all three of them are laughing, although Soobin is attempting to keep a straight face. Jisung feels happy, he feels _really_ happy. He feels like nothing can go wrong. 

_He knows it’s dangerous to feel that way._

“You know what, Soo?” Jisung speaks, ignoring the gnawing feeling that he feelstoohappy for any of this to make sense, “A movie sounds amazing."

***

The lights turn off with a familiar click. Jisung holds his breath for a second, listening to the sound of footsteps steadily fade away towards the staircase. When he can no longer hear them, he pushes his duvet cover off and tiptoes across the floor, flinching slightly at the cold of the wood beneath his toes. Reaching the wardrobe in the corner of the room, he stretches to its top and grabs onto the torch he’d slipped up there a few weeks ago. 

He switches the torch on, covering it with his hand and allowing the light to slip out through the spaces between his fingers and scatter on the floorboards. He hears a giggle and smiles, lengthening his steps until he reaches Jeongin’s bed and swiftly sneaking under the covers. 

Jeongin is grinning at him under the duvet, the light of the torch making his eyes glimmer in a way that comforts Jisung indescribably. Scattered cut outs of comics from newspapers lay on the mattress, a pack of cheap, half-broken colouring pencils next to them. 

There are no well-preserved vintage Batman comics here, Jisung has realised. Instead, he began to doodle on the rejected comic sections of the daily newspapers at breakfast, heartily accepting Jeongin’s shy request to join in. It became so normal, so safe, so _theirs_ , that Jisung couldn’t imagine a day go by without it. Even when they had to begin hiding the way they made art out of art for the sake of keeping it to themselves, it remained Jisung’s favourite part of the day. Or night, rather.

Jeongin is holding back laughter at the Garfield comic Jisung had snatched out of the newspaper that morning and snuck under a wobbly floorboard under Jeongin’s bed. Could they get in trouble for hiding the daily comics? Probably not, but hiding the thin pieces of paper was part of the fun. 

Jisung holds the torch as Jeongin colours the grumpy cat in green, the speech bubble complaining about Mondays yellow, the table the character is sprawled across a bright orange. Jisung smiles at the end result. 

“It just clicks in my head,” Jeongin whispers, “It makes sense."

Jisung thinks it makes all the sense in the world, because Jeongin said so.

“Do you remember home?” Jeongin drops a bomb in a whisper and Jisung feels the aftermath in the speeding of his heart. 

He holds his breath. 

“Sometimes,” he exhales. 

It’s a lie. It’s also not a lie. It’s not that he doesn’t _remember_ , it’s that he doesn’t quite know what “home” means anymore.

“Do you?” 

“Kind of,” Jeongin is still colouring, so Jisung makes sure he’s holding the torch still, “It’s been a while though.” 

“What do you remember?” 

Jeongin puts down the blue that now tints the borders around the panels, and picks up the red. He begins to fill in the As and the Os in the part of the article that remained, half-ripped, above the comic. 

“There was a shaggy striped carpet and a lot of books. It always smelled really nice, too, and there were always cookies in the cookie jar. And we had a cat that always slept on my bed.” 

Jisung smiles. The colouring pencils now lay abandoned on Jeongin’s bed, the torch next to them, casting light on the bedsheet and scattered pieces of paper. 

“His name was Fox.” 

“Hm?”

“The cat. His name was Fox. I don’t know why, but it fit him. He kind of looked like one, too. Now that I think about it, that’s probably why.” 

Jisung chuckles, “It probably is.”

“Sometimes you remind me of home.” 

Jisung feels his heart doing something it hasn’t done in a while. 

“You remind me of home too.” 

Jisung’s heart is smiling.

***

Jisung and Jeongin sit on the roof and watch the sun set. They’re not allowed to do that, not really, but it’s a special day so the risk was worth taking. 

“I wish we could’ve gotten you a real cake,” Jisung says, mouth full of cupcake and lips covered in purple frosting. 

“This is fine,” Jeongin mumbles back with a pink coated smile. 

Jeongin turns eight years old today. Jisung has only known him for a few months, but it feels like he has done everything in the world with him by his side. 

In a few months, Jeongin has managed to give him forever. 

To celebrate his birthday, they'd snuck out during recess and bought a pack of cupcakes at the store next door with saved coins that had been collected from floorboards and found between the cushions on the common room sofa. Jisung doesn’t consider himself to be great at maths, but he’s pretty sure the lady at the check out counter let them take the cupcakes even though they were several dollars short. It doesn’t matter though, so long as Jeongin’s smile stays on his face. 

“How’s it feel being a year older?” 

Jeongin laughs: “It feels the same as yesterday, but with cupcakes and a _lot_ of attention.” 

Jisung can’t help but laugh along with his best friend. The sunset has painted the sky a joyful light violet, and Jisung can see the crescent moon shining through the featherlike clouds peppered along the horizon. 

“What’s your favourite colour?” Jeongin breaks the content silence, taking Jisung by surprise. He stops to think, taking in the colours spilling in the air before him and smiles to himself. 

“The colours of the sunset, I think. They make me think of nice memories.” 

Watching the sunset and sipping apple juice with mama on the weekends. Seeing the red glow spread across the bed garden from the fort he’d built with Felix. 

Sitting here, now, this, right here, with Jeongin. This is a memory he’ll never let go of.

“I like blue,” Jeongin decides, taking a bite out of a new cupcake and getting a smudge of red icing on his nose. 

“Your nose likes red, though,” Jisung points out, prompting Jeongin to focus his eyes on the tip of his nose and attempt to lick the frosting off. He can’t reach but doesn’t stop trying, making Jisung laugh so hard his stomach begins to ache. There is something simple about the way Jeongin chuckles along, his smile reaching his eyes. 

Jisung thinks Jeongin’s grin is what makes the sun rise every morning. He knows it’s Jeongin’s birthday, but he makes a wish of his own, asking the fading sunlight for more moments like this with his best friend. 

Without a word, he wraps an arm around Jeongin’s shoulder, the younger boy looking at him with a look of soft surprise on his face before wrapping an arm around Jisung’s and following his gaze to the setting sun. 

***

Jisung is lying down, staring at the ceiling. At least, he assumes the ceiling is there. It’s really too dark to see anything at all, and if the ceiling was gone he’d see stars, wouldn’t he? 

Jisung’s thoughts wander to a giant lifting up the roof so he could see the stars. He’d wake Jeongin, and maybe the giant would be kind enough to give them a lift to the top of a nice hill. It would only be a few steps for him, after all. 

“Jisung,” a familiar whisper interrupts the conversation Jisung was having with the giant in his head, but he doesn’t mind. 

“Yeah?” he whispers back, trying to make sure no one but Jeongin hears him. 

“I had a bad dream.” 

“Hold on,” Jisung slips out from under his covers and tip toes to the bed next to his. The floor is cool again, and although soft footsteps across it have become a habit, something is different. Something is urgent. 

He slips under the covers with Jeongin, using his hands to calm Jeongin’s shaking fingers. His hands are warm but he’s shivering like he’s freezing. It makes Jisung’s stomach tighten with concern.

“It’s okay. It was just a dream."

Jisung can’t see in the dark, but he imagines Jeongin’s eyes are widened with fear and confusion. He tightens his grip on the younger boy’s hands.

“I dreamt that I died.” 

“That sounds scary,” Jisung shivers at the thought, doing his best to make it go unnoticed by Jeongin.

“That wasn’t the worst part, Sungie."

In Jisung’s humble opinion, Jeongin dying would be the worst part of anything. It’s _his_ worst nightmare, even if it isn’t Jeongin’s.

“That’s pretty bad. I don’t know what could be worse than that."

He hears Jeongin’s shallow, panicked breathing in the dark. It sounds like his heart breaking.

“You weren’t even around. I was all alone. I was all alone and then I died.”

Jisung feels a lump form in the back of his throat. He wraps his arms around the younger boy’s shivering shoulders and feels him let out a trapped breath.

“I’m always gonna be around, Innie. You’re my brother.”

Silence. 

“You won’t leave, right? Promise?” 

Jisung’s pinky finds Jeongin’s in the dark. He feels his chest tighten. 

“I promise.”

***

There is a middle-aged looking couple that has been walking around the halls since breakfast time. They’re accompanied by curious whispers and rumours that had to startsomewhere,but no one seems to know where. 

“I heard they’re shutting down the home.” 

“I heard they’re looking for a boy under 5.” 

“No, I heard they’re willing to stretch to 10.” 

“Who do you think they’ll choose?” 

“No one, I heard they’re on the board.” 

“What board?"

Jisung and Jeongin link arms as they walk down the hall to their maths class. Neither of them pays any mind to the murmurs around them. They have more important things to talk about. 

“I just prefer the third book, I think.” 

“But the fourth one has the Triwizard tournament! It’s so fun to read!” 

Jisung feels his conviction that The _Prisoner of Azkaban_ is the superior _Harry Potter_ novel waver as Jeongin’s excitement rises. Neither of them have read past the fourth book, not yet anyway, but maybe the smile on his best friend’s face is worth surrendering the favourite title to _The Goblet of Fire_. Maybe. 

Jisung and Jeongin walk into the maths classroom. There was a seating arrangement that separated them, at the beginning of the year, but the organisation has been long forgotten and now they always settle into seats right next to each other. Jeongin always lets Jisung sit right by the window, just like Jisung always fills Jeongin’s bowl with CocoPops when he’s first at breakfast. It’s just friendship.

The boys sit down, their discussion dying down as the soft-spoken maths teacher begins going over the previous lesson. She's Jisung’s favourite, and Jeongin loves her too, although he prefers their music teacher. 

Ten minutes into the lesson, there is a soft knock on the door, followed by a creak as it opens to let a middle-aged looking lady in. She looks serious, yet kind, and she whispers a few words into the confused teacher’s ear, receiving a nod in response.

“Yang Jeongin?” 

Jeongin flinches next to Jisung, looking up. 

“Come with me, dear. You don’t need to take your things, you’ll be back.” 

Jeongin is taller than Jisung, but as he stands up and walks towards the front of the classroom, he seems oddly small. Jisung hates seeing him like that. 

He watches his best friend get escorted out of the room by the two women, both of them smiling kindly in an attempt to reassure him. Jeongin looks back at Jisung, and he immediately knows the smiles didn’t work at all.

Time passes even slower when Jeongin isn’t sitting next to him, and Jisung hates it, watching the hand of the clock move what seems like every hour instead of every minute. 

Jisung hates being without Jeongin. 

The door creaks open again exactly twenty-four minutes after Jeongin left. As he walks back in, Jisung lets out a sigh of relief, feels a weight lift off his shoulders. He could swear he sees the thin hand of the clock speed up as it counts the passing seconds. 

Jeongin sits back down next to him and gives him a smile laced with guilt.

_Why is he smiling like that?_

Jisung feels worry tinge at the back of his throat.

“What was that about?” 

Jeongin sits down next to Jisung, avoiding his eyes.

“I met them.” 

“Met who?” 

“The couple.”

Jisung feels his chest tighten. 

“Are they nice?”

“Yeah, they’re really nice. They want to take me for lunch tomorrow.” 

_Don’t cry._

“Are you excited? Where are you going?”

“I’m not.”

Jisung’s heart speeds up a little. He hears it thumping in his ears.

“What do you mean you’re not?”

“Mr. Han, Mr. Yang, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

Both the boys shake their heads at the disapproving teacher, who gives a nod and goes back to explaining the problem on the board. Jisung doesn’t really know what she’s doing, but he doesn’t care much right now. 

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

Jeongin is copying the problem down into his notebook. He looks at Jisung and whispers: 

“I don’t want to go. I like having lunch here.” 

Jisung thinks about the bland food served in the dining hall at lunchtime every day, and somehow doubts this is true. He knows the real reason, and it makes his chest tingle with guilt.

“If they want you, you _have_ to go, Jeongin.”

“I’m not leaving you behind. I won’t leave you behind.”

Jisung’s heart breaks a little. 

***

Jisung and Jeongin sit on the roof and watch the clouds travel across the sky. They’re not allowed to do that, not really, but there’s no other way to pretend the sadness that hangs heavy in the air isn’t really there. 

There are no cupcakes this time, no loud laughs or lighthearted jokes. Silence wasn’t a regular occurrence between the two boys, and although it’s still somehow comfortable because it’s _them_ , it feels too solid to break right now. 

Jeongin is smiling. He always is, but this time around, his smile is so thin and fragile that Jisung is afraid a laugh might break it. 

“That cloud looks like a bird,” Jeongin manages anyway. The silence clears the same way the fog did on the first day they’d met. Jisung is so indescribably grateful for the beautiful way in which Jeongin’s mind works, finding something to love and discover in every single thing. 

“It does. What kind of bird do you think it is?”

“I don’t really know names of birds yet, so I’ll say it’s a dove. I know that one,” Jeongin answers, making Jisung smile.

“I think you’re right. It definitely looks like a dove.”

_Peace._

“There’s another one,” Jeongin points to the sky, “It looks like a shoe.” 

“Jeongin,” Jisung pushes the word out as gently as he can, hoping the lump in the back of his throat isn’t obvious when he speaks. 

“That one looks like an island, and that one —“

“Jeongin.” 

Jeongin turns to face his friend, trying to hide the tears welling up in his eyes with the familiarity of his smile.

“It looks like a cat,” Jeongin finishes, and a tear manages to fight its way out of his eye. He’s still smiling.

Jisung feels like the day Jeongin stops smiling, the world will stop turning. 

“Jeongin.” 

Jeongin sighs. Jisung beats himself up over thinking that taking an elephant out of a room and putting it on a roof would somehow make this whole thing easier, when the truth is that nothing could. 

“I don’t want to go.” 

Jeongin wipes his cheek with the sleeve of his sweater.

“I don’t want you to either,” Jisung’s voice quivers. He knows that when Jeongin goes, so will he. It makes his chest hurt. 

“Then I can stay —"

“Jeongin, you deserve a family.”

“ _You’re_ family.” 

Jisung can’t help it anymore, letting out a sob as he wraps his arms around Jeongin and feels the tears racing down his face. 

None of this felt real, and Jisung squeezes his eyes shut wishing for it all to be an ugly nightmare. 

But it wasn’t.

“I don’t know how to be without you,” Jeongin mumbles into Jisung’s shoulder, “You made everything okay. Who’s gonna make it okay now?” 

Jisung feels like he can’t breathe, but he _has_ to. For Jeongin.

“Your new family will,” he manages, “It’ll be okay. They seem really nice."

“I’m scared.”

“I know. But it will be okay.” 

“How do you know?”

Jisung doesn’t. Jisung _hopes_ , he prays, he begs, that Jeongin will be okay, that the sweet looking couple that’s about to take him home is as kind as they look. He hopes they will give him cupcakes on his birthday, that his new mama will get under the covers with him when he has bad dreams, that his parents will buy him proper colouring pencils and let him colour in the comics in the back of the newspaper. He doesn’t _know_ anything, but he hopes for a whole lot. 

“It just will,” he says, praying he’s right. 

“I’m gonna miss you a lot.”

 _You’ll forget me in a few months_ , Jisung can’t stop himself from thinking. As much as it hurts, part of him is keeping his fingers crossed that Jeongin _does_ forget. That he grows and thrives and becomes the beautiful person he promises to grow into. That he never stops smiling, that he never gets his heart broken, that having known Jisung will never stop him from being happy. 

“Don’t forget me,” it almost sounds like a question when Jeongin whispers it, but it’s one Jisung knows the answer to this time around. 

“I could never forget you."

“Guys,” Soobin’s voice interrupts as he peeks at them from behind the door to the roof that neither of them had heard open, “They’re looking for you. It’s time to go.” 

If someone were to ask Jisung what he felt like in that moment, the only word that would come close to describing it would be crushed. 

But he stands up, stretches an arm out for Jeongin to take, holds it until they make it down the stairs, tightens his grip as they approach the big, grey car and the smiling couple outside of it. He lets go only when he has to. 

The couple waves Jeongin over, and he reluctantly walks towards them, lets them squat down and talk to him, gives them his signature smile. They ask him questions Jisung doesn’t quite catch as he stands by the entrance, swinging back and forth on the soles of his feet.

Jeongin whispers something in the lady’s ear, and she gives him a sympathetic smile. Jisung hears an, “Of course you can!” before he sees Jeongin turn around to face him. 

In what seems like a fraction of a second, Jeongin runs towards him and wraps his arms around him. He buries his head in his neck and Jisung hugs him back as tight as he can, hoping to hold on to him forever. He fights back the tears, not letting them blur this moment. He wants to engrave every part of it into his memory before Jeongin leaves. Before he leaves.

“I love you, Sungie,” Jeongin says into his neck, and Jisung feels weight being lifted and falling on his chest at the same time, forming a paradox behind his ribs, one that only he could try to understand.

“I love you, Innie,” Jisung whispers back. He wonders whether he can hug Jeongin long enough to take him along with him, whether that’s even how it works. 

They have to let go at one point, though, and Jisung immediately feels like half of him is walking away. 

They avoid the word _goodbye_ , because it threatens to burn their tongues. They avoid the promise of, _I’ll see you soon_ , because there is no guarantee it’ll be kept. Instead, they form an unspoken pact to pretend that Jeongin is coming back in a day or two, because that makes this as easy as it can be.

Jisung watches the car drive away. When he feels like he has the strength to move again, he climbs back up to the roof and sits down in his usual spot. He looks at the horizon as the sun begins to set and wonders if he’ll feel himself fade away.


End file.
